Oh
by TheMightyZan
Summary: The Inquisitor wakes up to Cullen still in bed.


It was rare that she slept longer than he did.

She slid out of the bed as carefully as she could so she wouldn't wake him and shuffled into the closet, her thoughts moving through the day and what was needed of her. She wondered if she could get away with paperwork in the morning so that she could avoid armor, and people, for a few hours, but wrote it off almost a quickly since she remembered Cassandra had wanted her to help with drills, and there was no way the Seeker would let her out of her duties.

Smiling into the silence of the room, she finished pulling on a shirt and stepped back out into the main area, her eyes falling back on the figure still huddled under the covers. Knowing that he would curse himself for not being awake to check the daily rounds before drills started she moved to the bed and reached down to give him a shake.

Cullen didn't respond to the gentle prodding, and she huffed out a laugh before shaking him harder. Still not getting a reply, or even a grumble, she gripped the edge of the blanket and yanked it back.

"Come on, you're going to hate yourself later if- oh." She broke her sentence off with the quietly stated word as she focused on the man in the bed. He was pale and unmoving, his position the usual one of how he liked to sleep on his stomach, but with none of the subtle signs of life that were usually present. "Oh," she whispered again as she extended a hand to stroke over his back. The too white skin had a slightly blue look to it, and while it was still smooth it was cold to the touch.

Pulling her hand back, she flexed it a few times, as if to stretch off the feel of him, before she took a few stumbled steps back, stopping only when her legs hit the couch and she settled onto it. Pulling her legs up, she wrapped her arms around her knees and simply stared at the bed.

She knew she should probably be doing something, getting someone, double checking that what she was seeing was real, but her mind was strangely blank as she stared at the back of Cullen's head and the way his uncombed hair rioted around his ear. Her body felt numb, and she lowered her chin to her knees, unsure of what else to do.

"This wasn't what was supposed to happen." The words sounded strange to her ears, and she wasn't quite sure why she had said them, but once she started she couldn't seem to stop.

"You're not supposed to be like that. You're supposed to be getting ready to do drills. I was going to watch today, Cassandra had talked me into it but to be honest it didn't take much convincing. I enjoy watching you down there with the soldiers, all sweaty and serious; it was going to be the best part of my day."

The clash of weapons drifted into the room from the open balcony doors and she tilted her head towards the sound a moment. They had obviously decided to start without their commander, not surprising since it did happen that he was late on occasion.

Turning back to the bed she wondered how long it would be before Cassandra came looking for her, and what she would say when she found her.

"We were supposed to go on a trip soon, weren't we? I believe you said it was going to be time well earned. Well, you've ruined that now." She shook her head, confused on why she was still talking when she really should be going and finding someone to help, but she couldn't seem to find the energy to stand up from the couch.

"Actually, you've ruined quite a few plans. All of them really." She gave a small laugh, a broken thing that tumbled a little too woodenly from her lips and rocked her chin against her knees. "We were supposed to get married, have babies, do all those things that you said you wanted to do. You'd even convinced me they were going to be good, and that's saying a lot seeing as I didn't even like the idea of a serious relationship when I first met you."

There was no reply to that, not that she was expecting one, and the room continued to press the near silence down around her. She felt a pressure building behind her eyes and lifted a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose, her eyelids sliding closed as if she could dam up everything that she was afraid might suddenly want to get out.

"And now what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do with this? Why would you…" She trailed off as she felt wet sliding down her cheeks and shook her head again in some wasted attempt at denial.

"How am I supposed to go and do anything without you?" The words were stuttered and weak as her breath turned ragged. Giving up, she lifted both palms to cover her face as the beginning of tears turned into quiet sobs.

It wasn't fair. They were supposed to have been happy.

She wanted to hold on to that thought, let it steel her with anger because anger would be so much easier, but her thoughts were crumbling around her, one single thing taking their place and repeating itself over and over.

He was gone.

So she cried, and continued to cry even as she heard quick footsteps ascending the stairs, and the startled noise that Cassandra made before she was leaving again.

She cried as she felt a cool hand on her knee and knew that Cole was standing beside her, but she couldn't stop the sobs that wracked her body enough to look up at him.

After what seemed like hours there was a flurry of noise, and movement, and people that all seemed to spin and bleed together as she dropped her hands and stared blindly through the haze in her eyes, and finally, finally, someone was pulling her up and into them and she got the briefest glimpse of golds and blues before she was bracketed by arms and useless words were being murmured in her ear.

"Josie." The name was stuttered and barely understandable, but it didn't stop her from continuing to babble nonsense at her friend as the hold on her was tightened.

"He's-He's gone. Josie, He-" And then she was crying again, fingers gripping and pressing into Josephine's back as she heard the others moving the body from the bed.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Josephine repeated, over and over, her own voice thick with emotion, and she merely shook her head again and held tighter and prayed that maybe, just maybe, this was a dream and she would wake up.


End file.
